


A Kiss Goodbye

by FlowingRiverAshes



Category: Unus Annus - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hair Pulling, Kisses, Live chat, M/M, No Smut, Scars, Scratching, Soulmate AU, Twitch stream, i got carried away, in a non-sexual way, kind of, scars they don't actually have, vague sexual undertones, vanishing scars, webcam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:42:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27159484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlowingRiverAshes/pseuds/FlowingRiverAshes
Summary: The boys have scars and a live stream to entertain, until a donation leads to a discovery.Soulmate AU? I think yes.AU prompt stolen from Tumblr.
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Comments: 10
Kudos: 331





	A Kiss Goodbye

“...and that’s how I got this,” Mark finished, proudly showing the ugly scar on his finger to the camera. Soft beeping from a tiny monitor behind him let him know that Ethan had finally arrived—finally. The fucker was late as usual. 

“Show you the other ones?” Mark read from the Twitch live chat, chuckling softly to himself. “Not today, some of them are a liiiiittle not safe for work, if you know what I mean.” 

“Porn?” Ethan asked from the doorway, completely oblivious to what had been happening as he tossed his bookbag on the couch. 

“The fuck? No, you weirdo, we’re talking about my scars.” 

“Ooooh, which ones?” 

“The... scar-y ones? What? Are you stupid?” Mark laughed, enjoying the crinkly eyed smile that spread across his friend’s face. 

“Apparently, chat,” Ethan replied, casually kicking his shoes off and joining Mark by the desk. “What’s shakin’?” 

The first response, naturally, was a responding “that ass”, and he regretted asking almost immediately. 

“I’ve got some scars too, you know,” Ethan said finally, turning his attention away from the live chat. Mark was watching him with a mixture of amusement and fondness, something he’d stopped trying to hide weeks ago after getting called out on a live stream and embarrassing himself. 

“Yeah? Like what? A tiny little one from a paper cut you got in fourth grade?” the older man joked, making his companion pout. 

“No fair! It was fifth grade, and it was cardboard!” 

“Oooh, I’m so sorry for assuming,” Mark laughed. “Clearly you are the most grievously wounded here, congratulations.” 

“Thank you,” Ethan replied primly, trying his best not to laugh and glancing at the chat again. “What? No! Absolutely not, bad chat.” 

“Hey, watch what you call my chat buster.” Mark moved closer, leaning over Ethan’s shoulder to read the flurry of messages. “Kiss it? What?” 

The younger man’s face held a distinct pink hue, something Mark observed with interest. “They want us to kiss it better.” 

“Like... on the mouth?” 

“No, dumbass. Kiss the scars.” 

“Oh.” 

“If we get $1,000 in donations, I’ll kiss Mark’s boo boo finger,” Ethan announced suddenly, grinning widely at the webcam. 

“The fuck you are!” his friend protested loudly, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“The fuck I am,” Eth agreed happily, watching as the stream chat went absolutely crazy. “How many scars you got, man? We could raise you some serious cash here.” 

Mark’s brain went entirely blank at the thought of Ethan’s lips on the scars across his abdomen, and it must have been apparent to his friend as his vacant stare was met with an uncharacteristically wicked grin. 

A single donation of $1,001 pinged onto the screen, making both men jump. “Well shit, that was fast.” 

Ethan held out his hand expectantly and Mark scowled at it. “I hate you.” 

“You love me,” he countered, and the older man heaved a dramatic sigh as he gave him his hand. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Get it over with.” 

His heart stuttered in his chest as Ethan pressed a soft, tender kiss to the gnarled scar, and then stopped completely as a flash of pain ripped through his finger. Where the scar had been was nothing, just smooth, tanned, unbroken skin. 

“What the fuck?” they said in tandem, eyes wide. 

Behind them, completely ignored, the chat was going absolutely insane, and donations poured in for Ethan to do it again. 

“You... you saw that too, right?” Ethan asked, uncertain. “That wasn’t just a cruel trick?” 

“I saw it,” Mark replied in a whisper, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. “It had to be you, didn’t it?” 

“I don’t get it.” 

Mark reached out and grabbed Ethan’s arm, forcefully rolling up his sleeve to reveal the thin, light scar that he’d just joked about. “Do you trust me?” 

“With my life,” came the instant reply, and Mark bent to press a gentle kiss to the wound. 

“Ouch!” 

Both men stared at the spot where the scar had been, now a completely unmarred patch of skin. 

“Son of a bitch,” Mark said softly. His friend could say nothing and just stared at his arm, eyes wide. “Right, chat, sorry but we have to cut this stream short. I’ll be back later with an update. Bye!” 

The webcam’s light went out and the screen went dark. 

“Mark, what the fuck was that?” 

“Ever heard of the soulmate theory?” His voice was shaking. Fuck, why was his voice shaking? It was just Ethan. 

“No.” 

“It’s an old urban legend that Amy told me about a couple years ago. Supposedly, the only way your scars can disappear is if your soulmate kisses them goodbye.” 

Ethan scoffed, ignoring the pounding in his chest. “Do you really believe that?” 

“Dude, you just watched that happen. What the hell else could it be?” 

“A lighting trick? I don’t know.” 

The two men stared at each other, uncomfortably aware now of the many years of unspoken somethings between them. Maybe this was real. Maybe this was the solution. 

“How do we test if it’s true?” Ethan asked finally. 

“How many scars do you have?” Mark replied, half serious and half mocking him from earlier. The tension between them eased immediately and Ethan snickered. 

“I was a gymnast, dude, I’ve got plenty.” 

“If you’re okay with it, I can try it again,” he offered, feeling almost shy. The feeling was mirrored as the younger man blushed. 

“I mean, there’s no harm in it. I can try too if you’re comfortable with it.” 

_Fuck yes, I am._ The thought made him ashamed, but he pushed it to the side. 

They stood before each other, shirtless, looking for the scars that could change their lives for good. Immediately noticeable were the ones on Ethan’s shoulders, silvery white and thin, and the two thick ones across the lower part of Mark’s abdomen. 

“Who first?” Ethan whispered, more self-conscious in that moment than he’d ever been before. 

“I can go,” Mark replied just as softly. He stepped forward and bridged the gap between them, laying a hand on Ethan’s chest to steady himself and hating how his fingers seemed to burst into flames. “Ready?” he asked, and Ethan nodded, afraid to say anything for fear of destroying the delicate bubble they found themselves in. 

Lips brushed gently against his skin and white-hot pain lanced through his shoulder. Instinctively he reached up and dug his nails into the tanned skin of Mark’s arm, taking a shuddering breath and resting his head on the older man’s shoulder. 

His eyes snapped open as the pain faded and he felt Mark running a rough thumb across the still-tender skin. “I’m scared to look,” he rasped, ashamed of the instant change in his body’s response to his best friend. 

“They’re gone,” came the rumbled reply, much deeper than he’d expected, and he realized that his nails were still digging into Mark’s arm. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he laughed nervously, letting go and avoiding eye contact. 

“Don’t worry about it, it looked like it hurt.” 

Mark’s dark eyes searched his face, feeling a surge of fondness for the anxious young man. If his soulmate were to be anyone, he supposed he was more than lucky. 

The thought had no sooner crossed his mind when all of the air was knocked out of his lungs as Ethan dropped to his knees in front of him. “W-what--” he stammered, and Ethan finally made eye contact, grinning at the complete lack of composure. 

“It’s your turn, stupid,” he laughed. Ah, right. The scars. The scars on his abdomen. How fucking stupid of him. 

“Right,” he replied, brushing his hair out of his face. “You just took me by surprise, that’s all.” 

His hands fisted by his sides as Ethan rested his palms on his hips, holding him still. Why couldn’t he have scars in less aggravating locations? 

“Are you ready?” he asked nervously, and Mark nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

Ethan’s kiss was even lighter than the first, barely the brush of a feather, but the pain that followed felt like a knife twisted in his gut. Unbidden, his hand found the younger man’s hair and pulled, earning a very embarrassing whimper. 

“Fucking ow,” Mark managed through gritted teeth as it subsided. 

“Wow, it’s completely gone,” Ethan marveled, pretending that he totally hadn’t just made one of the hottest noises Mark had ever heard in his life. He brushed his fingertips over the smooth skin and felt the muscles in his abdomen clench. 

“Do we believe it now?” Mark asked, pulling him to his feet. If he let him stay down there, he’d be almost as embarrassed by his body’s reaction to his touch. 

“I think so,” Ethan replied, an idea popping into his mind. “Can I try something?” 

“As long as it isn’t the second surgery scar, absolutely,” Mark replied warily. 

“Close your eyes?” 

He did and waited, body stiff as a board. Gentle hands cupped his face and he couldn’t resist cracking his eyes just a bit, finding his friend’s face mere inches from his. Ethan saw the movement and stopped, pouting. “I said--” 

“Close my eyes, yeah yeah, I heard you,” Mark laughed, and leaned in to kiss him softly, closing his eyes as promised. 


End file.
